Alice in Madhattan: The Fall of the Clover Queen
by Invader Mars
Summary: This is the story of Ib, eight years after encountering the Fabricated World with Garry. The only problem is that Garry is missing and she remembers none of it. A new force has risen, taking the form of a delicate girl named Madeline. But appearances are very decieving. Madeline is no weak little nine-year old. Ib and Garry must beware of her. First story of a trilogy!
1. Prologue

**Well hey there! I'm InvaderMars, and I'm bringin' you folks another story! Sadly, I've decided to discontinue my last story. I don't like it when stories center around OCs and only OCs. It seems unprofessional, in my opinion. So anyway, I finished playing the RPG Ib, and totally fell in love with it. Specifically, GarryxIb. By the way, in this story, Ib lives just outside of Washington, D.C. Anyway, hope you like this little yarn!**

Alice in Madhattan part 1: The Fall of the Clover Queen

Prologue 

Wonderland was plunged into despair. The color faded from the sky, the plants hung their heads in shame and grief. The fish that, just a short while beforehand, sung songs about their fair queen, her allegiance to her people, her undying generosity, couldn't even find it in themselves to hum tunes of melancholy in her honor. Most of the soldiers, who had fought so valiantly with the hearts of lions, now lay fallen in pools of dark crimson. The citizens' souls grew weary and hopeless. Their driving force, their inspiration, the fire that set the lads ablaze with love had… perished. None could let such a horrid phrase escape from their throats in even the smallest whisper….

She died.

Madeline only smirked.

In all honesty, the silly little Clover Queen of Wonderland and her armies were laughably defeatable. The thought that a nine year-old girl and a puny rebel force had completely overcome the Queen's vast military only made the child laugh more. Madeline's smirk widened into a malicious grin.

How pathetic.

Daintily, she picked up a fine china teacup with the silly clover emblem plastered on its side and sipped at her "tea." She took a closer look at the side.

Oh, how that emblem infuriated her.

Dipping an index finger into her beverage, she made a large, red "X" over the emblem. To her, the thing only meant weakness. Thinking more about the cursed logo on the teacup, she dipped her finger once more into the drink and drew a spade around the X.

She looked to a far corner of the room, where an elegant looking man with lavender hair lay unconscious in a cage. Her heart fluttered a bit before she looked out the window of the Clover Castle beside her. Her smirk returned.

Goodbye, little clover, your term has come to an end.

The spade reigns now.

Wonderland has a new Queen.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ib broke into a cold sweat as she heard a blood-curdling growl behind her. Whipping around, she paled as she saw what was after her.

A Lady in Blue.

Willing her legs to unfreeze, she turned back and sprinted to the door, clutching the blue rose. She prayed that the remaining petal didn't fall off.

The snarls got louder.

Shutting the door tightly behind her, she ran to a vase that sat on the opposite side of the room. Thrusting the blue rose in it, some relief came to her as she saw that it healed instantly.

Her relief disappeared as she heard a deafening shatter of glass.

A scream caught in her throat. The Lady in Blue was steadily advancing. Ib ran as fast as she could to the door leading to the hallway. She let out a cry of pain as the Lady in Blue grasped her ankle with talon-like nails. Falling to the carpeted floor, she screamed again as the Lady bit down on her leg and broke the skin. She had to give the rose to Garry! He couldn't afford to not have it! Hot tears slid down her cheeks.

"Garry! Help!" she yelled. "Garry, please! Help me!"

The Lady in Blue tore at her leg harder.

"GARRY!"

Ib jolted upright, trying to figure out where she was. She realized that she was in her own bed, safely at home. She wrapped the covers tighter around herself and whimpered. Unwillingly, she tried to analyze her nightmare and found that she knew nothing of it.

Why was she in an art gallery?

Why did that painting come alive? More importantly, Why did it want to kill her?

And just who was this Garry person?

She shuddered at the thoughts, eternally grateful that it was only a figment of her imagination. These nightmares had been tormenting her sleep ever since she came back from the Guertena Show at the National Art Gallery. That had been nearly eight years ago.

She supposed that some sculpture or painting there had really frightened her. It was troublesome to know that she had never let go of it.

She hadn't ever liked that gallery. It felt suspicious.

Looking out her window, she realized that the sun was starting to rise. Stretching, she tried to will the thoughts out of her mind and focused on preparing for school. Pushing the sheets aside, she made her way to the bathroom. A hot shower would be nice.

Reaching her destination, she took a look in the mirror. She scowled. She looked dreadful. She yawned, feeling a slight headache behind her eyes. For a split second, she thought she saw a tall man with soft lavender hair standing beside her in the mirror. She blinked in alarm.

Nothing was there.

She stepped away from the mirror, her headache scared away.

Yes. A hot shower _would _be nice.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ib was growing bored. Oddly enough, her distaste for the National Gallery only fueled an artistic passion that she never knew she had. She had decided to take art classes throughout Middle and High School.

But of course she had to get the art teacher that droned on and on about the history of art. She couldn't care less.

Discreetly opening her notebook, she doodled a rose on the margin of an empty page. Soon she drew another. And another.

Her thoughts got away from her. She hated roses. Why did she keep drawing them? She wanted to stop, but found that she couldn't. She reached for a blue colored pencil on the corner of her desk and colored the biggest rose in. She glared down at the evil flowers. She sighed and continued to draw more roses around the margins.

Roses had a very significant value to her. They stirred emotions at the depths of her subconsciousness. Fear. Hope. Joy. Relief. …Then there was that pesky fifth one that always eluded her.

She focused her eyes back down on the paper and stifled a yelp.

She had drawn a portrait of the man haunting her dreams.

Garry.

She allowed herself to take in the detail of the picture. Soft lavender hair. Straight nose. Friendly eyes. An air of kindness and slight femininity. Her face softened.

Oh, Garry.

She traced the man's jawline lightly, wondering how in the world she could have drawn this if she only saw the back of his head in every nightmare. Oh, how she wished that she could be with him now, eating macaroons in a little café like he prom-

Wait.

Where had that thought come from?

When had she started tearing up?

She came back to the real world, right as her teacher was beginning another topic of discussion.

"This is a mandatory trip. I want all of those pink sheets back to me by next class. Any that are turned in later will result in an automatic ten percent deduction of your trip grade."

Ib looked down. The first thing she saw was the title "National Art Gallery Field Trip."

No.

Please, no.

No. No. No.

No no no no no no no.

This can't be happening.

She pinched herself, trying in vain to wake up from _this _nightmare as well.

The shrill ringing of the third period bell told her that this was no dream.

She felt herself trying to stop hyperventilating. Panic radiated through her. Maybe hate wasn't the right word for her feelings of the Gallery. Maybe fear was a better word. She softly whimpered, remembering her dream.

Oh, Garry.

Why?

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts of her nightmares. She desperately wanted this man called Garry beside her. She was so sorry-

But why?

Why was she sorry? What could she have possibly done to this mystery man? She had never met him!

Or so she thought.

She shakily gathered her books, concentrating on getting up the stairs and to her third period English class. She just needed to clear her head and read. She was thoroughly enjoying Romeo and Juliet.

Yes, that's better.

Romeo and Juliet. Romeo and Juliet. Romeo and Juliet. Romeo and Ib. Garry and Juliet. Garry and Ib-

No.

No more Garry.

No more nightmares.

No more apologies.

Ib mentally drew the boundary line for her thoughts. No more Garry, No more fright, she reasoned.

So then why did that deduction make her want to sob her eyes out?

Oh, Garry.

Ib was so sorry. She was so, so sorry. She had hurt Garry. Her resolve crumbled along with the new philosophy.

She wiped her eyes and continued to her class.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Mama! Papa! I'm home," Ib called into her house. She smiled a bit as she heard the TV blaring with a Japanese sitcom. Her dad had the weirdest tastes. The aroma of cookies wafted from the kitchen. Well, this was a pleasant surprise. Kicking her shoes off by the door, she lugged her bag to her mother's well-supplied kitchen.

"Welcome home, Ib. How was school?" Her mother inquired. Ib found the woman's heavy Japanese accent rather comforting. Familiar.

"Eh, it was alright. Oh, but there's a field trip to the Gallery a week from now," Ib reluctantly pulled out the pink paper that her teacher had supplied. Her mother gently took it and skimmed. She smiled.

"Ah, the Gallery. Haven't been there in a while. Do you remember that visit, Ib? One of the first things we did in America!"

Ib involuntarily shuddered. The memory was extremely hazy, but she knew that it had a firm connection to mystery man Garry and why she feared the place so much. Her mother gave her a concerned look. "Cold, Ib-chan?"

"Oh, no, no, I'm not cold. Just, uh, thinking about how much homework I had! Yes. Yes, I remember, Mama. Eheh, such a fun visit! Heh…." Ib lied. Her mother's look only grew more concerned before she reluctantly accepted her daughter's explanation.

"Well then, it should be fun, don't you think? You love art," Her mother commented. Ib could only nod in reply.

"I'll leave that with you, Mama. I've got so much homework," Ib lamely excused herself upstairs. She didn't have much homework at all.

Reaching her room, she closed the door as politely as she could and flung her bag next to her bed. She sighed. She felt miserable. Only a week between her and that horrible Gallery? Oh, no. She wasn't sure if she could stomach the anxiety. She decided to take another shower. It didn't help much this morning, but maybe it would do something now that the nightmare hadn't just happened.

Pah, the little voice in the back of her head sneered, that's not true. It may have well just happened. You've been thinking about it all day!

Ib waved the annoying voice off. She got off the bed and went to her closet to retrieve her bath robe. She started to undress herself when her eyes caught the tall mirror in her room. She walked over to it.

She removed her uniform and sighed. In her opinion, she was completely shapeless. He hips had only a slight curve to them, and her chest was still annoyingly small. She sighed again. At least she had her legs. Which reminded her, she needed to shave.

Would Garry like what he saw?

Ib covered her mouth with her hands and blushed a vibrant red. Since when had she begun thinking like that? She immediately became sheepish. As soon as she had turned 13, she had wild fantasies mixed in with her nightmares. Sometimes, the fantasies were even _part _of the nightmares. She shook her head, embarrassed, and shrugged on the robe, tying it tightly.

She couldn't help but wish that Garry really did see her like that. Well, if he were real, that is.

She really should keep her imagination on a tight leash.

Sighing for what seemed to be the millionth time that day, she made her way to the bathroom.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Madeline yawned. She was bored. Toying around with the surrounding villages wasn't as fun as she thought it would be. Her remaining soldiers all had turned out to be complete idiots, so her new army had executed them. They had been fun to torment. But like any other child with any other plaything, she grew tired of the same old thing.

She didn't know how the Clover Queen stood it. There was nothing fun to do! Looking up at the ever-gray sky, Madeline sighed.

She smiled as she thought of waking Garry. Her nine year-old heart did a little flip-flop in excitement.

She strolled over to his cage, trying to look as seductive as possible. She grinned at her cleverness of putting his cell in her own room. She had also told her guards to leave her be for the day. Oh, what _fun _she was going to have.

She lifted the little iron bar that she kept at her desk and banged on the cell bars, startling Garry awake. As soon as he saw her, he glared. She only smirked.

"Hello Garry," she said, drawing his name out. He gave her a bemused look. "Let's _do _something."

Garry scowled harder and turned around, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of a reply. Normally, he would have gently dissuaded any other child to coloring, or something solitary. But she was no child. She was a demon who had stolen an unfortunate girl's body. Behind him, Madeline pouted.

"Oh, come now, Garry-kun," she coaxed. Garry's scowl turned into a glare at the honorific. This girl wasn't even Japanese.

"Please, Garry-_kun_?" She tried again, putting an extra emphasis on "kun." "Let's go drink tea and eat some _macaroons."_

Garry didn't know if she had purposely put emphasis on "macaroons," but the word reverberated in his mind, bouncing off the walls of his consciousness. The memories came rushing back. Guertena. The Ladies in Color. The Fabricated World. The Sketchbook. Mary. The mannequins. Promises. Protection. Fear. The roses. Love.

…Ib.

Ib.

Sweet, little Ib.

His brave young friend.

How they had defeated Mary and her twisted ways. The Gallery's Fabricated World.

Oh, Ib.

She'd be seventeen soon.

Garry betted that she'd turned out to be a fine young woman. He, on the other hand, hadn't aged a day. He was still at the young age of 21. Upon leaving the museum after that horrible trap, he went back. Again, he got stuck in the World.

But he didn't make it out.

This girl, Madeline, had made a portal from Wonderland to the Gallery, and he had gotten sucked in.

He had been discovered by her, lying in the middle of a field with that awful rose clutched in his hand.

How he hated roses.

What a fool he had been to go back. His intuition had said not to, but at the time, he didn't believe in such things.

He should really put some faith in his better judgment.

He finally felt tears streaming down his cheeks. He shut his eyes in pain.

Madeline wondered why her poor Garry was crying. She had only wanted to have some afternoon tea. What was so sad about that?

"Ib," she heard him mutter. "I'm sorry, Ib."

Who in the world was Ib?

It sounded like a_ girl's _name.

A _pretty girl's _name.

Oh, no. We can have none of that.

Madeline's concern turned into fury. He loved a girl.

That girl wasn't herself.

Said girl was going to regret meeting Garry.

"Garry-kun," she said through grit teeth. "Who is this _Ib _wretch?"

Garry stood and whirled around. His eyes were bloodshot from crying. He was a great deal taller than Madeline.

He looked furious.

"Ib… is… not… a… _wretch_," He said, spitting out "wretch" like it was poison. He looked Madeline straight in the eye. "Leave."

"Garry-kun-"

"LEAVE." Garry yelled, cutting her off. Furious could not accurately describe all of the emotions whirling around within him. He missed Ib, and she had no right to talk about her that way. She started to cry. Garry didn't feel the least bit remorseful. Instead, he sneered at her and fought off the feral growl building in his throat. She shouldn't be crying.

How pathetic.

"Don't you _dare ever _call her a bad name. And don't you _ever _call me Garry-kun, you demon. Now leave."

Madeline hesitated for a bit. Garry glared harder. The young girl sobbed as she ran out of the room. Garry blinked his fury away and fell back into depression.

"Ib…" he whispered. He sank to his knees. "Oh, Ib."

Madeline slammed the door tightly behind herself as her chest rattled with sobs. Garry had _yelled _at her! How could he? She loved him! She sloppily wiped away her tears as her fright and sorrow turned once more to fury. She had to fix this problem. She had to fix this Ib girl. She hadn't the faintest idea what to do. Suddenly, she remembered. Sniffling, she made her way down to the throne room.

Her crystal ball could answer any question of hers.

Steadily looking into it, she calmed her voice and asked "Who is Ib?"

The shimmering glass globe showed a picture of a pretty brown-haired teenager with startling ruby eyes. Madeline's eyes narrowed. The Ib girl muttered something about not wanting to go to the National Gallery.

Madeline perked up.

"Maximillian!" she barked at a black haired man sitting nearby. "Open the portal. We have a guest to greet."

She smiled maliciously.

The spade would not fall victim to emotions.

Oh, no. We can have none of that.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Ib shifted again and again in her sleep, moaning out Garry's name like a mantra. With every movement, she tangled herself further into her sheets. Sweat condensed on her forehead, the liquid shining in the moonlight of her open window.

Suddenly, her ruby-red eyes popped open and she jolted upright. Panting, she whispered Garry's name as tears trailed their way down her flushed cheeks.

It had been the nightmare where a small blonde girl with piercing blue eyes was wielding a pallet knife at her. She was in a room seemingly made of a drawing done with crayon. The girl kept taking steps toward her.

"Why are you here? How did you find this room? Go, NOW!" she had shouted at Ib. "LEEEEEeeeeeAAAAAaaaVVVVE!" Ib had stumbled over a creepy blue doll and fallen against the scribbled wall. She looked up and saw a painting with no picture in it. Suddenly, she remembered that she had taken a lighter from Garry. She stood up and flicked the lighter open.

She had to burn that painting.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion as she reached for the painting, the fire of the lighter flickering in the creepy room. Just a few more inches…

The lighter was knocked from her hand. It hit the carpet with a resounding _thud_.

The blonde girl angrily raised the gleaming pallet knife over her head. Ib prepared herself for the pain.

It never came.

Ib opened her eyes to find that the girl was becoming ashes, her mouth forming an "o" in horror. She saw the cause.

Flames licked at the floor around Ib.

She screamed at the top of her lungs.

"GARRY!"

Ib was sobbing harder than she had ever sobbed before. She whispered Garry's name over and over again.

She wanted to be with him so desperately.

Burying her face in her pillow, she screamed out his name. Luckily, her parents had left earlier that night for a couple's cruise, so she was alone in the house.

She had never felt more alone in her life. Her heart felt like it was steadily ripping at the seams. She remembered that there were only three days until that field trip.

The goddamn field trip.

Oh, how she would like to beat her instructor to a bloody pulp for arranging such a thing.

Oh, how she wished that she had Garry.

He was not really a stranger to her as he had been for the past eight years.

Ib tried to calm herself down. Gradually, her sobs quieted as she realized something.

She wanted him by her side.

She didn't ever want to let go of him.

She wanted, she _desperately wanted_ to remember why he was so important.

She loved him.

She loved Garry.

But she didn't know him.

Her crying had stopped at this point. She weakly rubbed at her eyes before gracelessly falling back to her pillow.

She loved Garry.

She loved a figment of her imagination.

… She must be going crazy.

She waved that thought out of her mind as soon as she had thought it. No, she wasn't going crazy. Somewhere, deep in the depths of her subconscious, she knew that Garry was real. He had to be. Him and that strange place and the little blonde girl-

The Fabricated World.

The name just popped into her mind. Somehow, she knew that the strange place where the girl had turned to ashes and where the paintings came alive and lives depended on the petals of roses was called The Fabricated World.

She met him there.

She must have.

She racked her brain for some sort of early memory of a lavender-haired, turquoise-eyed man from her childhood, and found none.

She must have met him there. Yes. It was all starting to make sense. She met mystery man Garry in the Fabricated World.

But where was the entrance?

How could one get into this Fabricated World?

Ib's shoulders slumped in defeat. Just as she had thought she was onto something-

Wait.

The Gallery.

Wasn't there a painting called "Fabricated World?"

… Yes.

Yes, there was.

There _was_!

Ib felt some solace in knowing that the entrance was there. It had to be. There was no other explanation. Yes. Somehow, she and Garry got trapped in the Fabricated World. And the little blonde girl went after them…

She still had no answers for the little blonde girl. Who was she? How did she fit into this milk puzzle-

Milk puzzle.

Garry had told her about them.

She remembered him telling her.

_She remembered_.

She remembered!

Ib nearly got up and jumped for joy. She remembered! … But then what about the rest of her memory? Why didn't that surface? She scowled again in disappointment and lay back down. Realizing that it was far too warm for her comfort under the sheets, she kicked them off.

As soon as she did so, she imagined Garry's soft, pianist-like fingers trailing up her bare thigh.

… She really needed to stop that. She groaned, embarrassed. Situating herself on her side for comfort, she let the crickets outside her window lull her to sleep.

_I'm coming, Garry._

Ib woke up with her alarm. How could anyone sleep with that incessant beeping going on? Her muscles groaned in protest as she slowly sat up. Why did her back hurt?

Oh. She had rolled onto the floor in her sleep.

She groggily stood, trying to ward off her dizziness enough to shut her alarm up. She looked at the time. 5:00 am. Why did American high school have to start so _ungodly early_? She stretched, trying to wake herself up. As per her morning ritual, she grabbed her uniform and headed off to the bathroom to have a hot shower.

Standing under the water, she reviewed what she had concluded last night. That's right. She remembered. How wonderful the little tidbit of information felt in her brain, now that it had been confirmed. She smiled and ran a soapy hand through her hair. Three days until she finally had the chance to remember everything. Hopefully, something at the Gallery would jog her fickle memory. She found herself on her knees, praying that it would.

Standing back up, she washed the rest of herself and toweled off. She went over to the sink and brushed her teeth. She glanced up in the mirror, hoping to see Garry like she had the other morning.

Sure enough, she didn't.

She sighed in frustration and threw her uniform on. She mentally growled at her Academy. Why, in the middle of May, did they have to wear their blazers? It was preposterous to her. She also thought that it was rather sexist of the school.

Not wanting to dawdle any longer, she brushed her chestnut hair, flipped the light switch and headed downstairs. Fixing her usual breakfast, a simple sesame seed bagel, she found herself musing more about Garry and the National Gallery. Remembering that she had drawn a picture of him, she opened her bag and took it out.

He looked just as she remembered-

Remembered?

She grinned. Now she could definitely picture him telling nine year-old her about the milk puzzle and promising to take her out for macaroons and tea. She sighed again. She wanted him here so badly. Making a mental note to frame it later, she carefully stowed it in her Studio 2-D Art notebook, finished her breakfast, and made her way to the closest bus stop to the city.

The three days flew by. Ib's parents were still on the cruise, so no one was at home to interrupt her thoughts of Garry and the Gallery. The day of the Field trip, she swallowed her fear of the Gallery and set forth, determined.

She was Ib.

Nothing had gotten in the way of her and the truth before.

This was not an exception.

Catching the 6:15 bus to the city, Ib felt brave for the first time in eight years. She was going to find out what happened, damn it. As usual, she was the only passenger on the bus. She knew the bus driver well, a kind old lady called Mrs. Smith.

"Well dear, you look bright-eyed this morning." The old woman greeted her. Settling into her usual seat behind her, Ib nodded with a firm "Yes, ma'am," escaping her lips. The driver chuckled.

"My, my. Set ourselves on a boy, have we?"

Ib blushed and looked down, feeling very embarrassed. The old woman only chuckled more.

"Dear, you're in your prime. And with such a pretty face, you're sure to knock 'em dead! Good luck, Eve." Mrs. Smith had always called her by her Americanized name. Not that Ib minded. She found herself growing more and more fond of the name with every utterance. Mrs. Smith stopped the hulking automobile in front of Washington Academy. "Remember dear, this stop is our little secret," Mrs. Smith whispered, winking at Ib like she did every weekday morning. Ib only smiled and gave her a mock salute. Mrs. Smith laughed heartily, eyes crinkling. She closed the doors and waved, driving off to make her rounds.

Ib turned toward the Academy, the fire of courage blazing in her eyes. She'd be damned before the truth eluded her again! She walked through the gigantic double doors and traveled to first period, waiting for the office to call all of the field trip participants to the buses.

Surprisingly enough, the bus was buzzing with chatter when the students were loaded. Several people, mainly cocky boys, had wanted to sit with Ib, but she politely waved them away. She wanted to focus all of her thoughts on Garry. She took out a sheet of notebook paper and began to doodle roses again. That was one more question that was still unanswered. She had no idea why the roses were so significant. She decided to sketch another picture of Garry. She thought that her favorite part about him was…

Never mind, she had no favorite part. She loved all of him. His soft lavender hair, beautiful eyes, elegant face, the way his hard-looking, somewhat lanky body seemed to soften up just for her when they hugged-

… Now she had absolutely no doubt that he was real. Another memory rang in her head. The blonde girl was knocked out at the top of some stairs. A yellow rose lay beside her. It looked real, but upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be a fake. Garry had told her not to feel sorry for her. She wasn't human. She was a painting. She was after them.

The dream of the little girl burning made sense now. She was a painting. One surefire way to get rid of a painting is to burn it. Of course.

She came back to the real world when the bus jolted to a rickety stop. They had arrived. The National Gallery of Art. Home to many of Weiss Guertena's works.

Home to The Fabricated World.

Ib felt a bit of her fear return. She slowly rose from her seat, delaying her entrance into the museum as long as possible. She shook her head. She was being silly. Leaving the bus last, she made sure she had everything before taking a confident step forward to join the rest of the class.

Stepping through the doors, she felt an overwhelming wave of déjà vu wash over her. It was like she was nine again.

"All right, class," she heard her boring instructor say. "You may tour the Gallery anywhere you want as long as you're paired up with someone. If you do not wish to be paired, please stay around the reception desk. You may go now,"

Ib had wanted to go see "Fabricated World" first, but something was telling her to walk down the hall next to her instead of up the stairs. Luckily, both areas were in easy reach of the front desk.

Entering the gallery room to her right, the first thing she saw was an eerie painting of a sea monster called "Abyss of the Deep." Shuddering, she remembered how odd it felt to walk through the painting-

She hardened her gaze and strode down the next hall to her right.

What she saw took her breath away.

A rose.

A giant red rose.

The sculpture was called "Embodiment of the Spirit."

She remembered everything.

The roses. The roses were the lifeline. Without the rose came death. Mary. The Sketchbook. The dolls. The Ladies in Color. The mannequins. The dozens of different keys. The horrid toy box.

Garry.

Oh, Garry.

She gasped. She had to get to The Fabricated World. Garry was there. She knew it. Ignoring the "Do not run" signs, she bolted for the accursed painting. Many people were startled as she flew past them, up the stairs, eyes wild.

She reached it in no time.

The dreadful thing still looked the same.

Oh, Garry.

Suddenly, the lights went out. Ib froze.

It was happening again.

Swallowing all her fear, she went back down to "Abyss of the Deep." She was prepared to jump in and face all of those monsters if it meant saving Garry.

It wasn't there.

"Abyss of the Deep" wasn't there. In its place was a shimmering pool of light. Almost like…

A portal.

Garry.

He was down there.

Without a second thought, Ib jumped in.

**Well, how's five chapters for starters? Phew, it took a lot of effort to write this. My back hurts now. Heeheehee, evil cliffhanger. Man, I'm pumped and really getting into this. Anyway, I'll probably be updating every two days at the latest. Probably only about two chapters per update. So, catch me every other day! Questions? Comments? Ideas? Reviews are love! Thank you! Oh and I'll upload some fanart of this as I progress. Just check out my DeviantART profile: .com**

**Thanks again! ~ InvaderMars**


	7. Chapter 6

**Okay, so I lied when I said I'd be updating every two days at the latest. It's obviously been more than that *sweatdrop*. I'm not a fibber, so what really happened when most authors claim that "they had writer's block" was that I got super lazy. Hey, we gotta enjoy our summers too. Today was the first day back to school, so, naturally, why not kick it off with chapter 6? I want to thank everyone who has reviewed and favorite and watched and made it an effort to follow the story. I really appreciate it. I've made the decision to update every Sunday. Marching band is extremely demanding. So, where were we? Ah, yes, Ib jumped into the portal. Anywho, let's continue with the story, shall we?**

**Chapter 6**

Ib landed with a hard _thump _on a mound of dirt. She had closed her eyes, expecting the fall to be much longer, so she opened them and looked around.

She wasn't greeted with a pretty sight.

A gray wasteland rested within her vision. Bare trees reached with gnarled limbs to the sky, as if begging it to uproot them and leave them for dead. An icy wind seemed to blow from al directions, howling in fury. The ground itself was ashen. No life was anywhere to be found.

Ib shuddered. This was nearly as bad as The Fabricated World! She slowly rose to find an uncomfortable breeze nipping at the back of her thighs.

_That's odd. I left the house with shorts on underneath my skirt._

Looking down, Ib raised an eyebrow, finding herself in a rather frilly red dress, complete with an apron. Spying a pocket with a red heart stitched to the front, she curiously reached into it.

The rose she pulled out nearly made her heart stop.

Blood red petals, five of them to be exact, were placed daintily about the center. The stem seemed shaved of its thorns, too perfect to be real, although there was no evidence of any slices or cuts.

How badly she wanted to fling the damned plant away, to recede into the safe corner of her mind and never come out. To rid her sight of the barren land before her and forget again that the whole Gallery incident had even occurred.

Realizing that she was being pathetically feeble, she banished the thoughts from her brain. She knew Garry was in this strange place, and that he was in danger. She knew she had to save him.

After all, he saved her multiple times back in the Gallery, right? She owed her life. Not to mention the thought of being without him any longer was unbearable.

Turning around, she saw a bare forest. Something in the pit of her stomach told her to go this way; that Garry was there. Unfortunately, so was whatever was endangering him. Displaying the most confident face she could muster, Ib set off in that direction.

_ Oh, Garry…._

Ib felt like she had been walking for eternity when she finally stopped. She felt completely hopeless. All of the trees looked the same. She was sure that she had been trekking in circles this whole time. Making her way over to a nearby rock, she flopped down and held her head in her hands.

A sound tickled at her ear. She shot up, looking around wildly.

… There appeared to be nothing there. Maybe the stress of Garry in danger was weighing down on her too much-

THERE! There it was again. Ib thought for a moment. It sounded like…

A giggle?

Ib looked around, incredulous. There hadn't been a sign of life for miles, so how could there have possibly been a giggle?

"Things are not always what they seem, dear girl…." An eerie voice purred in her ear. Ib shot up again. The giggle grew louder.

"You certainly are not going to find anything like that, child." The voice chastised again. A grinning mouth formed in the air out of mist. Soon, a nose, two eyes and whiskers came with it. Ib gasped in fright and staggered back. The face snickered. "Come now, do not be that way, dear girl." A body and a head joined the face in midair. With the ears now in place, Ib realized that it was…

A cat?

"Ah, yes, I am a cat, child. And yes, I can read one's thoughts. Now, if you please, get rid of that skeptical look. It is definitely not befitting of your face." The cat purred at her. Ib fought back tears. Garry had said something similar to her, once. The cat floated toward her and brushed her nose with its fluffy plume of a tail. "Dear Eve, do not cry. We will get your beloved back. I was sent to aid you. Please, call me Cheshire." Ib blushed at Cheshire's statement.

"Sent by whom?" Ib touched her lips. The language was much more flowery than she normally talked. She figured it was Cheshire's influence. "And might you tell me where I am?"

Cheshire grinned. "Your dialect is not of my choosing. In this world, everything changes. It desired to have you speaking proper English, and so here you are. This is Wonderland." Cheshire's grin fell and his brow furrowed as he mumbled, "Of course, now a more proper name would be Underland. Bloody evil girl." Ib raised an eyebrow, confused. Cheshire was startled out of his thoughts, and he smirked at Ib. "I'll explain on the way, dear girl. We don't have much time."

Now Ib was even more confused. "And where might our destination be, Cheshire?" she asked. Cheshire only grinned again and took her hand in his wispy paw.

"Follow me."


	8. Chapter 7

**Why hello there, my pretties! Thank you all for reviewing and faving and yaddah yaddah yaddah. I am so sorry for not updating! In short, school is a bitch. So anyway, how's about Hurricane Sandy? I'm getting the brunt of it. It was worse yesterday, though. But we got two days off of school!**

**Ahem. So, it's the end of Marking Period one and HALLOWEEN IS TOMORROW! SO EXCITED! So, let's kick it off with CHAPTER SEVEN! BOO YAH! **

**Chapter 7**

Madeline smirked.

That Ib wretch would be taken care of soon enough.

Giving a halfhearted wave to Maximillian, she turned back to her castle as he rode off toward the Great Forest. Her crystal ball had revealed that Ib had fallen there from the portal. She frowned, her thoughts turned to that Cheshire pest. Ah, well, he'd be taken care of as well.

Her frown only intensified as thoughts of Garry flitted within her mind. What was she to do about him? With any other person, she would have cast an amnesia spell on him and turned him into a guard or a soldier or something. But she didn't want her precious Garry to change one bit. She loved him.

She loved him so, so much….

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. A nine year-old shouldn't have to deal with a broken heart! A single droplet pooled from her eyelid. Rubbing it away, she realized something.

She could do magic.

A spell. Of course! She could _make _him love her. A plan wormed its way to her attention and began to blossom. This was ingenious! Madeline managed a small smile.

Once he loved her, that Ib wretch could be forgotten.

He wouldn't remember a thing!

Madeline was so caught up in her own joy that she didn't notice a lean figure slink through the shadows toward a nearby open window. Carefully climbing to perch on the wide sill, the figure jumped outside soundlessly and disappeared.

Madeline turned to the window. She could have sworn that she felt someone's presence.

Ah, well. She convinced herself that she was only getting excited from her new plan.

Humming in delight, she skipped up the grand staircase and to her room. Closing her eyes, she called out in a singsong voice.

"Garry, you are forgiven, and I have decided to let you out for a bit. Let's go have dinner now."

Silence.

Her eyes sprang open. "Garry-"

Only an empty room. The door to Garry's cage hung agape, the key nowhere in sight.

Madeline screamed.

Garry's heart fluttered against his chest like a caged bird. He could hear the beat in his ears as he ran. He ran for his life to the safety of the Great Forest. In Madeline's haste to escape his rage, she had dropped her key. The master key.

Garry wasted no time in freeing himself.

He finally reached the Forest. He didn't let himself slow down until that horrible stone monstrosity was out of sight. Panting, he sat on a nearby rock and tried to gather his thoughts. He had to figure out how to get out of there. Briefly, he remembered the Toybox. Ib had been so brave. He remembered telling her that they'd go out to get macaroons and tea after everything blew over and they escaped. He berated himself for not remembering. Dropping his eyes to the ground and holding his head in his hands, he tried to suppress the great sorrow that overcame him.

"Oh, Ib…." He murmured. If only she were there with him. He wished that the sky would open in sunlight instead of remaining the eerie, monotonous gray that it had become. Garry was growing tired of the lack of color of this place.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. He was grateful for this small bit of familiarity, at least. He idly shuffled them around, searching for nothing in particular, before feeling a sharp pain shoot into his left index finger.

Whipping his finger out, he spied a small drop of bright red blood on the tip. Garry was bewildered. What the hell? Carefully reaching back into his pocket, he felt around before coming across something thin and smooth. Pulling the object out, he nearly fell off his rock.

A perfect blue rose. Ten petals. A single thorn.

Garry stared in silent fright. How had that ended up in there? It certainly hadn't been there before! He considered flinging it away and running deeper into the forest, but resolved not to. If it were anything like the Gallery, and he was certain that it was, this plant abomination was his new best friend.

Garry shuddered and looked up at his surroundings. Everything looked the same. All of the trees were bare, had gnarled branches. Same ashen ground, eerily smooth-

What was that?

It looked like scuff marks. Garry looked around. No sign of life.

So then what made that mark? There was wind, but it never moved the dirt. Ever. It only tampered with the tree branches. Garry looked a bit closer, drawing his coat around him.

Was that a footprint?

No. It couldn't be. Garry rubbed at his eyes. The print remained.

There was no way that someone else was out here.

Unless…

Garry shook his head. Of course not. She definitely wouldn't be here. Ib wasn't foolish enough to go back to the Gallery, no matter how much she had forgotten.

But what if she hadn't forgotten?

Garry's heart surged with hope. Maybe she was here. Better yet, maybe she, indeed, _hadn't forgotten_. Garry nearly cried tears of joy. No matter how much his brain denied it, his heart confirmed that Ib was here. He could feel it.

With renewed vigor, Garry stood up, securing the rose back in his pocket. He closed his eyes, trying to feel which direction Ib had gone in. He turned to is right and opened his eyes.

There.

Yes, he could see that a small path had been cleared. He checked the footprint again. Yes, it pointed in that direction.

Garry went over to the nearly invisible pathway. Sure enough, there was another footprint.

As he progressed, there was another. And another. And another. He thanked whatever divine being was watching over him and followed them further. My, did it feel good to be getting out of there! Garry's heart surged more. He'd finally get to see Ib again!

"I'm coming Ib. I promised that we'd see each other again!" He whispered to himself.

He remembered the Gallery. Ib had been cute then, so she was probably gorgeous now. Garry had reprimanded himself for being such a lolicon then, but she was older now, so did it matter? Garry blushed a bit. What would he say to her? "Well, hello, Ib, I'm sure you don't remember me, but it's Garry! You know, the guy that you helped get out of the Fabricated World? Yeah, well, I've been stuck here for about 8 months, so could you save me again?" Garry scoffed and wrinkled his nose. Of course he wouldn't say that.

Garry had no clue how many hours he had been jogging, but he didn't care. He was still hot on her trail, the joy in his heart only growing with every step he took. He couldn't believe his fortune.

Suddenly, he heard quiet voices. His heart leapt.

Straining his ears, he heard an amused chuckle. That one was definitely male. Another voice laughed and said something back.

A young girl's voice.

Garry sprinted towards them. His heart was bursting at the seams with hope, his eyes straining to see-

A flash of red.

Garry only ran faster. The small flash of red soon became larger as his distance decreased.

Garry had to choke back a sob of euphoria.

She was right there, in front of him.

After months of waiting. Yearning. Crying.

Ib.

Dear, sweet Ib.

The cat floating beside her looked back, its grin stretching further. It flicked its tail at Garry in a "come here" sort of motion. Garry didn't need a further invitation.

He crept behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She had gotten much taller. She stiffened and glanced at Cheshire.

"Hello, Ib." Garry whispered, simply.

She turned around, mouth agape.

"G-Garry…?"

They sank to their knees and hugged tighter.

**Annnnnd that's chapter seven, folks! I'm happy with this chapter. Things be gonna gettin' fluffeeeeeeh.**

**I love these two. So much. Trust me, all you GarryxIb fans are going to have fluff aneurisms from here on out, pretty much every chapter. I'm having so much fun with this! Anyway, Happy Halloween, my dear readers. Until next chapter! (Which I have an inkling is going to be posted soon.) **

**Oh, by the way, I'll be posting scenes from this on DeviantART. My profile is . **

**If FF decides not to show that link again, just search InvaderMars on DeviantART. Look for Vocaloid crap, not Invader Zim fan art. Okies? Okies. Until next chapter!**

**-Mars**


	9. Chapter 8

Ib couldn't hold back her tears. Sobbing into Garry's shoulder, her mind reeled. She found him! Cheshire looked on, genuinely smiling.

"Garry," She stuttered, "H-how…?" Garry clutched her tighter, allowing his own tears of joy to fall into her soft hair.

"I've been stuck here for about eight months, Ib-chan," He began, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "There's this girl named Madeline-" He was cut off by Cheshire.

"Hush!" The cat hissed, "The Evil One has agents from her army scouting the kingdom! We mustn't speak of her," Cheshire whipped around, nervous. He began to lead them further into the Forest.

Ib and Garry got up. Garry started to move away from her for fear of being indecent, but Ib only latched onto his arm, tightly twining his fingers with her own. She felt a blush rise to her cheeks, but did nothing to stop it.

Garry marveled at her small hand. It seemed to fit perfectly within his, just like all those years ago. He turned his attention to her face. She was a good deal shorter than him, he mused with a grin. She had certainly gotten pretty. Garry blinked a bit. No, pretty wasn't the word to describe her. She was downright beautiful. He smiled again, admiring her skin, the feel of her silken palm hugging his hand. _She's grown up so much. _He thought, his eyes sweeping over her soft chestnut hair. _She's not the little girl I met._ His eyes eventually trailed down to her legs. They seemed to go on for miles, he thought with a brighter blush. His gaze traveled back up to her chest. _God, she's grown…. _He blushed even brighter, swatting the thought away. _Garry, how dare you! You're not some child philanderer or a pervert! This is Ib. She's the little girl you vowed to protect, not your lover! You're older than her by eight years! _Garry berated himself, failing to keep the bright red blush from his cheeks. He quickly looked away from her, choosing to focus on Cheshire in front of them.

Cheshire slyly looked back at him, wiggling nonexistent eyebrows. Garry nearly tripped over his own foot, mentally screaming at Cheshire that he didn't think of Ib like that and he was her older brother figure. Cheshire chuckled.

_Well then, Garry, you two certainly have an incestuous relationship. _Cheshire grinned. This time, Garry actually tripped, and brought Ib down with him. Cheshire couldn't bear to hold back his guffaws. Garry cracked an eye open to look at a confused Ib, who was sprawled out on top of him. His face caught fire as he realized that Ib was _straddling him_.

"Ib! Get up!" He yelped, afraid that the blood currently occupying his cheeks would start to flow other places. Ib hurriedly righted herself and held out her hand to help him up. "No, no, I'm fine," he sputtered, "Just being clumsy, heh." Ib retracted her hand.

"Garry, you really should be more careful." Ib said, the epitome of innocence. Garry nodded and clumsily stood.

"Right," Was all he could manage. Ib smiled innocently at him, and began to follow Cheshire again.

All Ib could think about was the liquid fire that had pooled in her stomach as she rested on Garry. _Oh my God, I was so close to his… eep! _She thanked the Heavens that her innocent façade had actually worked. She could only stare at the ground as she walked, distantly hearing Garry and Cheshire involved in a conversation beside her. Tons of scenarios bounded across her mind, vivid fantasies coming to light once more. She immersed herself in a particularly scandalous one, where Garry's hand held her in place on top of him and his other one gently trailed up her thigh to the hem of her underwear. She looked into his eyes, begging him to continue, her own raging with passion. He complied, pulled them down and-

"Eve," An amused Cheshire snapped her out of her impure trance, "Let's set up camp," Ib looked around, embarrassed. Somehow, this area seemed different from the rest. "We've just crossed a boundary line," Cheshire explained, answering her observation. "The Evil One's magic is weak in some spots, so our rebel forces have created areas where we can live in relative peace. "Safe havens" if you will." Ib looked around, her brow raised.

"Where shall we sleep?" She asked. Cheshire lightly hit himself in the head.

"Thank you for reminding me, dear girl! I failed to remember that you two cannot teleport wherever you please or sleep between the fabric of space and time," Cheshire's face split into his signature grin. Garry looked thoroughly confused.

"You can do all that?" He inquired. Cheshire nodded and conjured up a tent. Ib walked over to it and stepped inside, astonished from the enormity of it. Two humble beds, a toilet, and a table with two chairs rested inside. Garry soon joined her. He went over to the right hand bed and promptly collapsed on it. "I haven't slept in a real bed in a long while," He sighed. Ib shook herself out of her amazement and strolled over to the left hand bed, sitting down on it. She looked up at Cheshire.

"I've noticed there is no stove. How will we make food? Wouldn't a campfire be dangerous?" She asked. Cheshire grinned again.

"Right, my dear girl. That is why I'll take care of the food. You two needn't worry about a thing," Cheshire took a glance at the gradually darkening sky through the tent flap. "It is getting late. We all should rest up so that we may move accordingly tomorrow. I should be going," He conjured up a simple meal of bread and cheese for his charges. "Have a good night's rest-"

"Wait," Garry cut him off, standing up. "Why are you helping us?"

Cheshire's grin faded into a guilty frown. "I should have known that you'd ask that. I would advise sitting down," Garry complied, and Cheshire took a deep breath. "A long time ago, back before even I was born, there was a war, eerily similar to this one, if I do say so myself. The war prevailed to the first of the Clover royalty, thus establishing a long Clover dynasty, which, as you know, has ended with the death of our beloved Queen," He placed a paw over his heart. "May her soul ever rest in peace. As I was saying, when the war was over, the first Clover King, Michael the Great, was visited by a spirit. Her home had been rampaged through during the war, and she had nothing left. A Lost Child, as we call them. This spirit had been around for millennia, born shortly after the creation of Wonderland. She advised him of a great prophecy,"

"What was it?" Garry inquired, eager. Cheshire shot him a look.

"I was getting to that. Stop being so bloody impatient," He gave an annoyed flick of his tail. "The prophecy is as follows,"

"A cursed child will be born in Wonderland,

Growing up, the child will always lend a hand,

Because of her kindness and generosity,

This Spade Girl's family will gain nobility,

"Visiting on business in the capital county,

The Spade will have envy for the young Clover Queen,

The Clover Queen is considered the perfect being,

An idea which with the Spade Girl really isn't keen,

"Two armies gather one day in the same place,

To settle the dispute that the young ones have to face,

Clover tries to dissuade Spade from a war,

But the black Spade Girl will hear no more,

"The Noble Clover Queen,

Versus the angry Spade,

The great battle between two strong armies,

Alas, the Spade's strength wins the war that day,

And the Noble Clover Queen is left to decay."

Garry's face paled. Ib looked at him, then back to Cheshire.

"If that is the prophecy, how do we fit in?" She wondered. Cheshire's face was grim.

"There's more to it," He murmured. He took a breath and continued.

"The Spade's tyranny will commence in Wonderland,

And with it will come a mass genocide of man,

A wandering soul will come to this damned place,

A brave Diamond Man with twenty one years of grace,

"The Spade Girl will fall in love immediately,

And bound him to her side with heavy lock and key,

But the Diamond Man will not stay hostage for long,

And he will escape; his soul burns with a love song

"The Spade Girl's rage will lash out like fire,

And she will exalt herself only ever higher,

But the people have a strong reason to rejoice,

Two strong warriors aid them by choice,

"A red Heart Girl will come,

In place of the Clover Queen,

Leading her army to revolution,

With the Diamond Man by her noble side,

So will end the days of fear and the Spade's genocide,"

Ib's face paled along with Garry's. Cheshire looked back at them with a desperate gleam in his eyes. "I was sent to find you. You two are the Heart Militia's only hope. This is why I am helping you," Cheshire muttered.

"We… are supposed to be mercenaries?" Ib asked. "I'm only sixteen! I can't do this!"

Garry looked over to Ib, who was quaking. He walked over, gathering her in his arms. "Ib… we have to. It's not like we can go home and forget about this." He murmured. Ib started to sob into Garry's shirt. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, subtly rocking her side to side. Cheshire softly cleared his throat.

"King Michael did everything that he could to stop the prophecy from happening. Needless to say, it didn't work," Cheshire's face is painfully guilty. "I am horribly sorry… I'll leave you two be. Good night," And he disappeared.

* * *

**Wow. Shit certainly does happen. Anyway, I am terribly sorry that I haven't updated, my pretties! There was supposed to be more to this chapter, but I've decided to make it into two. You all get a treat; I'll upload the second part (Chapter nine), later today! Shit is about to hit the fan, lemme tell ya that. I love you all. Reviews are appreciated!**

**Oh, and I'm writing my own story. I'm hoping to get it self-published. The whole thing (or the majority, at least,) will be posted on FictionPress by the end of the summer. Do me a favor and check it out, okies?**

**-InvaderMars**


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